Downtime
by acidvanity27
Summary: Only one day is left before the mission in Edonia, Chris Redfield and Piers Nivans have a moment to each other. Chris/Piers
1. Downtime I

**A/N:** I've decided to write something small and short today. I haven't written anything in years. This is the first fandom in 7 years I've decided to write for :o Hopefully you'll enjoy it as I did writing it!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the character(s). They belong to Capcom

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**Downtime**

The small city was bustling below as the sun began to set in the distance. The wild colors of yellow and orange painted the sky over the horizon. The crisp, cool breeze wrapped around the large figure that leaned against the balcony with his elbows resting upon the railing. Eyes gazing and peering into nothingness, the man reached inside his jacket, pulling out a small pack of crumpled cigarettes that he saved during missions. He could always go out and buy more, but he rather finish what he started.

There was a single knock on the door, soft and barely audible. Chris Redfield looked over his shoulder for a moment before he stuck one of the smokes into his mouth. His attention returned back to the distance, feeling a familiar presence beside him.

"Been awhile since I've seen you so forlorn, Captain," the young man said, sporting a simple white shirt and casual military-green pants.

Chris didn't respond. Taking a long drag of his cig, he nodded instead, inhaling the sweet toxin before blowing the smoke through his nose.

Piers leaned his back against the rail and folded his arms over his chest. There was silence then. But it wasn't uncomfortable, no, it was more just enjoying each other's presence while the night began to loom over them.

"Everyone is about ready for our mission in Edonia," Piers said, a small smile ghosting over his lips. "And you should see the letter Finn is writing to his mother. I swear, that kid is a rookie. Nice, but a rookie."

"Even so, it is a few days before Christmas. Its best that everyone give their wishes to their loved ones," Chris said firmly, smoke swirling around his face as if giving him soft kisses on his cheeks. "What about you? Don't you have something to write or tape or send to anyone before we head out?" he asked, holding his gaze with the other man, finding the hazel eyes striking against the setting sun.

With his lips pursed, Piers shrugged his shoulders in reply. "Nah. I'm good where I am. Besides, standing and fighting along aside you is more than I could wish for."

Chris shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle as he finished off his cigarette, crushing the small bud under his boot. "Careful, you're going to sound a bit obsessive about your Captain."

"Maybe I am. You just might never know when I'll stalk you in your sleep." Piers laughed, which was music to Chris' ears. But as the laughter died down, the young protégé sighed near the end. Again with the silence. But Chris enjoyed these moments with Piers - fleeting moments of feeling as human as possible under the constant stress of fighting against bioterrorism. At times like these, he felt more and more alive. He had Nivans' to thank for that.

His ears piqued at the other's voice, giving a low hum in reply.

"I said, do you think after all of this - the fighting, the war, everything… we would have a normal life?" he questioned as he bowed his head, staring idly at his feet. "I mean, hell, I can't imagine myself with the war over. My whole life has been training for something like this. I wouldn't mind staying in the B.S.A.A just to make sure everyone is alright. To make sure the world is gone from this bioterrorism shit."

Piers paused then, gazing up to Chris with a soft yet unreadable expression. "What about you, Captain? Have you ever given it some thought?"

Redfield's eyes darted away from the young man, thoughts slowly coming to the forefront. He'd thought about it alright. More than once. Retiring and settling down was something he'd been dreaming about for months. He was getting older by the day, feeling as if he were fighting alone most times. But he knew the fate of the B.S.A.A really rested on the younger generation. More specifically, Piers Nivans. Chris had never been so impressed by a man's marksmanship. The way Nivans' handled his guns was incredible, and the way he handled missions and talk to HQ was pure leadership material. Yes, this was fate. This was someone he knew he could trust. His judgement hadn't always been the best, but for once, he felt at ease. When all of this was over, he would tell Piers and the rest of the B.S.A.A he would appoint the sniper as captain.

After what seemed like forever lost in his thoughts, Chris leaned back, large hands holding the railing tightly as he spoke.

"A bit," he lied, letting out a deep, heavy sigh. Piers lifted his thick brow questionably but shook it off, moving closer to the taller male.

"A bit my ass. Whatever it is, Captain, I'm sure it would be the right thing to do. I'm sure of it," he said softly, reaching for Chris' hand hesitantly before clasping it, twining their fingers together in a motion that was slowly becoming more habitual between them. "Just promise to tell me what it is. Alright?" Piers asked, brushing his thumb over the surface of Chris' hand.

It seemed unreal that they had entered somewhat of an official, thoughsecret, relationship just a few months ago, both admitting to eachother to their best ability without saying much. And for Piers, it was the best thing to happen - to always be by the Captain's side, to make sure he never lost sight of him. To Chris, however, he wanted to make sure Piers would receive the best of everything. To see everything through to the end even if it meant testing the sniper's will and patience at times. In the end, Chris wouldn't have it any other way.

"How about we round up the troops and have a drink at the bar across the way? Let's celebrate the holiday a bit early." Chris spoke, watching Piers' full lips tug ear to ear into a full-blown smile.

"Yes, Sir." Piers grinned, leaning up to give Chris a quick kiss on the neck. Chris stared down at Piers, knew exactly what the other meant by that simple gesture.

"Tonight?" Chris asked.

"Oh yeah. Tonight. Calling it early with the men and we can head back here. I don't know about you, but we need to say 'Merry Christmas' a bit more privately with a fuck."

Chris sighed and chuckled, letting his head tilt and nodding toward the door.

"Well then, get moving." Winking and beaming at the B.S.A.A Captain, Piers gave a half-assed salute with two fingers, heading out the entrance.

The door shut softly behind the younger male, leaving Chris behind. He sighed once more as he turned his gaze back to the horizon, smiling to  
himself. He wasn't overly fond of holidays, but for once, this is one he could look forward to.

**To be continued...**

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**A/N: **I am working on a sequel to this story. I wanted to just leave this as a stand alone story but decided against it. Hopefully the next chapter would be up in the next few days :)


	2. Downtime II

**A/N: **At first I wasn't gonna continue this story at all but I changed my mind half-way through the story. I hope you all enjoy the second chapter :3

**Disclaimer****: **I do not own Capcom's characters

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**Downtime II**

It had been several hours since Chris had spoken to Piers about rounding up the men for drinks. Loud clamors of laughter and profane jokes came from the group as they babbled about their lives. The soft tunes of jazz filled the room as a middle-aged woman with fair skin and strawberry blond locks sat on a stool on the stage nearby singing about war, politics, and perhaps love as well. Strumming her acoustic guitar, she sang away, a few fellow soldiers standing up and swaying their beers in the air with her sweet voice.

And finally, Chris Redfield walked onto the scene, clasping a hand down onto his fellow mates' shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze.

"Settle down men," he said the troops, giving them a small smile and a firm pat on the back as he waltzed over to the corner of the bar. He spotted Piers sitting on a table with his legs dangling over the edge, swinging them as he swayed to the music with his eyes shut. Drumming his skillful fingers on his thigh, Piers opened his eyes and nodded his head at his Captain's appearance, tilting his head to the side.

"Well look who finally decided to join us," Piers said playfully, beaming at the other with a grin. Chris' expression twisted questionably as he stood in front of his second in command, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Drunk already, Piers?"

"Nope," said the sniper, taking another swig of his beer. "Buzzed. There's a difference, Captain."

The young man then scooted over to the side, kicking out one of the chairs near his feet, offering it to Chris. Chris gave a single nod to the other, sitting down with a huff. Piers glanced down at his captain, hazel eyes searching the dark blue-brown depths before he glanced back to the stage.

"She's got a voice on her, huh?" Piers asked softly, turning his attention to Chris who nodded with a low hum of agreement. The sniper's brows twitched at the response, slightly chapped lips upturning as he shifted down off the table, sitting by Chris in an empty chair.

"Again with the thoughts? Man, what's been eating you? I've never seen you so... distracted." Piers was concerned at this point. Chris Redfield was a man who always seemed to state what was on his mind at any given moment, and now, his very Captain was struggling with something internal. Minutes passed in silence between them as the woman in black continued to sing her heart away.

"Captain?" Chris was broken from his thoughts as he sighed heavily, covering his mouth with his hand. Piers' held the back of Chris' neck gently, stroking and petting the older man softly. Chris leaned back into his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. Staring down at his drink the waitress dropped off, he held it loosely, tipping it to the side to stare at his reflection.

"It's nothing," Chris said heavily, letting the dark brown liquor seep down his throat slowly. Piers removed his hand, resting it on Chris' lap out of view from the laughing troops behind them.

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't believe me."

"... Is it the nightmares?"

Bingo. Chris' face grimaced at the question and he pulled away from Piers' comforting touch, looking away from the young man. Piers nodded silently to himself as he leaned back, resting his arm on the table. Before he came down to join the men, he wanted to take a short nap. But what he didn't expect was waking up suddenly with nerves standing on its ends, sweating bullets.

"How many times do I have to say it, Chris?" he paused, leaning in closer to invade Chris' personal space. "No one is going to die. Your men aren't going anywhere, I'm not going anywhere. No one is leaving." Chris simply sat there, drinking, listening to the man's words.

"Besides," Piers continued, "you're the best goddamn Captain the B.S.A.A.'s got. You're strong and intelligent. Hell, you're built like a fucking tank. Not many can say they single-handed brought down the most feared man in the world. And here he is, leading and willing to exterminate the rest of this bioterrorism. I will follow you wherever you go, Captain. Nightmares be damned."

Chris gave a small chuckle under his breath as he pressed the glass against his lips, sipping on the alcohol.

"Piers," Chris called the other, "you disturbingly know how to read me." His tone was gentle, making Piers cock his head to the side, raising a brow.

"Well, then, don't try to hide shit. You know I will pry you open like always."

"Kinky bastard."

"You know it." Soft laughter erupted between them as Chris and Piers both looked longingly at each other as Chris finished his drink, throwing a couple of bills down onto the table. Taking that as a sign to leave, Piers jumped up to his feet, feeling anticipation for what was coming. Its been awhile since he and the Captain had been intimate. In fact, it was a rare occasion. They'd shared a few kisses here and there, as well as a few quick sessions of mutual hand jobs. But when it came to sex, it was like a battle. Granted, it was only their second time. Their first time was rushed against a tree in a forest they were scouting. Piers recalled the morning after their 'confession' and not being able to stand upright to aim properly and writing it off as a back problem to Finn.

Smiling inwardly at the memory, he felt a pair of eyes staring into his soul as he glanced up at Chris, who raised a questioning brow at him.

"What were you thinking about?" Chris asked, tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

"Nothing." Piers paused. "Nothing at all."

With that, the sniper whistled briskly to the tunes that floated above him as he walked away from Chris, smiling ear to ear. "The night is still young, let's make the best of it."

Chris followed the other closely, wondering how he was going to keep up with the spry young man at his age.

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Hot kisses splayed over each other's flesh, biting and nipping, making it red. Heavy breaths echoed in the room, half-clothed bodies tangling and wrestling on the bed sheets. Mouths crushing as teeth clashed in a heated kiss, the younger male pulled away, lips swollen from the playful bites. Salivating for more, Piers ran his hands over Chris' muscled back, nails scraping at the dips and curves, leaving red coils in behind.

Arms pinned suddenly over his head, the hazel-eyed man found himself locked and trapped under the larger male. Throat rumbling with a deep seductive purr, Piers cocked his head to the side, taunting the other with his playful gaze. Piers knew he was pushing the limits on Chris' patience, but here he was moaning and gasping Chris' name like a sin.

"What's the matter?" Piers paused with half-lit eyes, lips curving into a little impish smirk. "Done already, Captain?"

Chris hovered above the younger man, lowering his eyes as his teeth bared into a snarl. His large hands fumbled with the leather belt, yanking it off of Piers' waist, making his hips jolt off the bed slightly.

"You don't know when to shut it, do you?" Chris questioned breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and neck. Piers shook his head, keeping his coy smile.

"You should know me by now." A low grumble came from the older man as he leaned down to crush his mouth onto Piers' own. Tongues swiping and dancing inside each other's depths, their teeth clashed violently as they began to drown in a drunken haze of passion.

Pleasure etched into Piers' expression, back arching high as he wrapped his arms around Chris' neck. Chris pulled away from the kiss, panting and sucking in his breath deeply as he reached for Piers face, thumbing over his swollen, full lips. He never felt so turned on by Piers. At times he felt like a wild, untamed bull, charging in without thinking. At other times, he felt confused as to why he gave in so easily to the other.

He sighed heavily, reaching down below to tug Piers' pants off his waist, tossing them to the side. It had been a while since he'd seen Piers naked. Rough fingers gracing over Piers' stomach, he mapped each contour of muscle. Impatience was starting to boil in the pit of his stomach, and he lifted Piers off the bed, making the sniper straddle his hips. Feverish kisses started up again, this time a bit faster and more desperate. Hands gripping in each other's hair sharply, they both moaned loudly in hunger.

After hours of devouring, they finally reached release, crying and growling out each other's names at the top of their lungs. They collapsed onto each other, unable to comprehend what just happened. And somehow, it felt like their last time for a very long time.

Chris laid on his back, vision blurred by the orgasm. Heart pounding in his chest, he shifted his head to glance at Piers, dazing into the now dark hazel eyes. He watched the sniper smile lazily at him as he tucked the pillow under his arm, body becoming heavy.

"Captain..?" Piers called Chris softly, drifting in and out of sleep. "After all of this, we should try going slower. Don't want to be a burden on the field because you fucked me again too hard." he said, yawning shortly after, idly playing with the soft chest hairs scattered over Chris' pecs. Chris replied with a soft hum of agreement, nodding.

"Yeah," Chris whispered. "We can try that." And with that, he drifted off to sleep with an arm around Piers', unconsciously bringing him closer.

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The alarm clock sounded off in the room as Chris shifted in his sleep, reaching over to hit the snooze button. Hand running through his hair, Chris sat up in the bed slowly, throwing his legs off to the side. The Captain hunched over slowly, leaning his arms over his knees. Rolling his shoulders, he listened to his bones pop. Reaching back over to the nightstand, Chris pulled out a pack of smokes, still fresh from the night before as he stood up, heading toward the back of the hotel room. He opened the balcony door slowly, greeted by a soft wind rustling his short hair. The sunlight created a halo around his naked figure as Chris leaned against the wall, placing a cigarette to his lips.

And he stood there, observing the morning, rolling his head to the side as his eyes fell onto the table, staring at the blood-stained B.S.A.A. patch. His gaze wavered as he lit the end of his cig, puffing out a thick white smoke.

"The nightmares never stopped, Piers," Chris said softly, talking directly at the patch. "Not even once."

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**A/N: **That's it! Thank you for reading this story. It means a lot to me :


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